Friend Enough?
by parker
Summary: Ron's thoughts after the third task; companion piece to Etiquette


  
  
A/N: This deals with the night after the third task, but this time from Ron's point-of-view. I'd like to thank anyone and everyone who has reviewed, it's wonderful that someone reads this drivel. And to the person (sorry, I forgot who it was) who said they didn't understand why I didn't get more reviews and that that shouldn't stop me...well, thanks man. It's great that you like these things that much. But I just do these because sometimes the ideas will just not leave me alone until I write them out. Hence the reason there is only one story every few months. (Not that this should dissuade anyone from reviewing :))  
Also, to all the people that keep writing and telling me to write R/H? Not gonna happen. I'm an adamant H/H, that's the reason I write this stuff. If you've read the books, I think we all know that JKR is setting up a Ron/Hermione thing, so you'll get yours in the actual printed works. These are for dorks like me who won't give up on Harry and Hermione. A girl can always dream, right?  
  
  
  
Friend Enough?  
  
  
Divination has never been a particular favorite of mine. We all know that, seeing as how Harry and I do our homework for the old bat. Tragedy upon tragedy, the more brutal and bloody the better. No one in my family has ever been great shakes at it either. I can still see Bill and Charlie's reactions when I told them that I was going to take Divination. They just looked at each other, eyebrows raised, and simultaneously burst into laughter. Evidently all of us Weasleys like things a bit more concrete than tea leaves, crystals balls, and "inner" eyes. Sometimes I think that Hermione had the right idea when she slammed down the trap door ladder, never to look back. This is probably one of the reasons I love chess; I mean, besides the fact that I can't be beat. Chess is very straight-forward and everything you need is right there on the board for you to see. No shadowy "maybes' or "perhaps." But even I, Ron Weasley, self-proclaimed hater, not to mention dunce, of Divination can see how this is going to play out.  
  
Tonight as I lay in bed, not listening to Neville's snores and the tossing and turning of Dean and Seamus, I couldn't handle it. I felt as if I was about to lose the plot, all too conscious of the empty bed next to mine. I had to do SOMETHING; anything. I couldn't lay there anymore going over the events of the evening in my mind. It was this endless cycle, from the moment we realized Harry and Cedric had vanished, until the moment Madam Pomfrey finally kicked us out of the hospital wing. Hermione's face, the almost total panic in her eyes and the way she held on to my arm with a death grip, my mother's cries, my brothers' desperate attempts at levity, Dumbledore's slightly panicked aura, Harry's face and voice and...everything when he finally returned. The desperate way he held on to Cedric; his emotions barely in check when we were with him in the hospital wing. Even when he took the sleeping potion, his face had not been relaxed and peaceful. He was curled up in the fetal position, his brow scrunched up, looking, even in sleep, frightened and ready to run. He had still looked like that when we left, hours after he had fallen asleep.  
  
Not being able to think about any of it anymore, I got out of bed and left the dorm, completely ignoring Dean, Seamus, and Neville's questions of where I was going. I went down to the deserted common room and sat, staring into the dying embers of last night's fire. I was extremely worried about Hermione also, she looked the worst of anyone tonight. Honestly, I didn't know if she was going to be able to keep it together, which shocked, and quite honestly, scared me. Hermione is always in control; she's the brains of this operation. If she fell apart, I knew that I wouldn't be able to keep us together. She's always done that - kept us together, I mean. I'm a bit...testy, I guess you could say. Even I can admit that. So, on occasion, I can fly off the handle a bit. It's a bit like an out-of-body experience. I see myself and hear myself, but I'm not actually responsible for the things I say. In my head, I'm yelling at myself to shut up or stop, but my mouth just doesn't receive the message. But that's a whole other story.   
  
So I'm temperamental and Harry...well, he just never thinks he's wrong. Hermione would say that's both of our problems. We don't think. The thing is, Harry usually is right, the git, but he won't listen to anyone. Besides Hermione. So she is the one that has to keep the three of us functioning. If she fell apart, the "dream team," as I've heard Parkinson dismissively calling us, would fall apart too. Harry is on the verge of losing it, earlier he looked as if he was being ripped apart. Hermione looked just as bad; she always gets like that when Harry's in trouble though. To others, it seems like she goes through life with nothing bothering her. But if you know her like Harry and I do, well, it's something entirely different. When she begins to worry, she goes on auto-pilot. If you look in her eyes, there's nothing there. No life, no spark; they're void. That's usually true at least. Tonight seemed a bit different though. Tonight, it was like she couldn't even force her mind on auto-pilot. It looked as if she was barely holding her mind, and herself, together. I caught her clenching her jaw, fighting back what looked like tears and nausea.   
  
As I sat there, thinking about the way she was acting tonight, I decided I couldn't continue to stare at those ashes without checking on her. I mean, I AM her friend, and I certainly shouldn't leave her in that state. Right? Right. So gathering my courage, I began to ascend the girl's staircase. Really, I'm her only friend at the moment, as Harry is out of commission in the hospital wing. So it's really up to me to comfort her.   
  
Okay, so you may have gleaned by now that I kind-of have this tiny, almost infinitesimal...thing for Hermione. I mean, it's nothing. Really. It's just that I got so pissed off when she started hanging around Krum. Krum! Please. He's this hunched-over, duck-foot, overgrown Bulgarian with one eyebrow. And he NEVER looks pleased with anything! What the hell does she see in him?!?! I certainly can't figure it out. Plus, he was competing against Harry! Her supposed best friend! I don't get why he wasn't more upset. He should have been as pissed off as I was, if not more!   
  
Alright, time to calm myself. Because if I'm getting this mad just thinking about Krum, then what the hell am I going to do when...shit. Sorry. Getting a bit ahead of myself here.   
  
So I went up to the girl's dormitory and pushed open the door, heart in my throat. My mind was racing, and my palms sweating, wondering what I was going to say or do. But I shouldn't have worried. When I got to her bed and pulled back the curtains, it was empty. The covers weren't even pulled back; it was totally undisturbed.   
  
I stood there staring at the empty bed, mind blank until I realized I was still in the girl's room and could still get in massive amounts of trouble if caught. Not to mention what Parvati and Lavender would do if they saw me. I hightailed it out of there and practically flew down to the common room.   
  
I sat on the same couch, staring at the same non-existent fire, with the same thoughts still running through my head. Where the hell was Hermione? She evidently hadn't even attempted to go to bed, proving once again how much smarter she is than I. She knew she wouldn't be able to get to sleep. But if she wasn't here, then where was she? Surely not...Krum? No, somehow I knew she wouldn't want him after what had happened. Ever since the second task, she has been much cooler towards him. Besides, he had nothing to do with this. It was about us, all of us - me, Mum, Charlie, Fred, George, Dumbledore, Sirius, McGonagall, Harry, and Hermione - our family. So it wouldn't be Krum. As I realized where she most likely was, I felt extraordinarily dumb. Of course she was with Harry. I practically had to drag her back to the tower tonight as she just kept staring at him, seemingly not being able to realize that he was actually there and safe. She also had the strangest expression on her face; it looked like she had figured out the meaning of life, or all the secrets of the universe. Like everything had suddenly become clear. And like she couldn't believe it herself.   
  
So I went back to my room, quickly and quietly grabbed the Invisibility Cloak from Harry's trunk and crept back down the stairs. I opened the portrait and snuck along the hall. As I walked along, even though I knew the hospital wing was where I'd find her, I almost couldn't believe it. Hermione breaking the rules, out of the dorm in the middle of the night, flagrantly disobeying orders to leave Harry so he could get rest?   
  
But I knew that's where she would be. And I was right. Sitting next to him, staring. I started to go over and sit with her, or try to convince her to come back with me, but something made me stop. I simply stood in the doorway, watching. At first just her, but then something drew my attention to her expression. It was still that look of certainty and clarity, but confusion with what exactly to do with it. Suddenly she sighed and seemed to come to a decision. As I watched, Hermione tentatively reached out her hand and laid it on top of Harry's.   
  
And the most amazing thing happened.   
  
Harry's hand turned over and intertwined his fingers with hers. His body uncurled from that same fetal position and his face relaxed as he turned towards her with almost a smile playing about his lips. Hermione took a gasping breath as her face broke out into a grin. And then...silence. But not the tense, anxious silence of before. This was total peace and relaxation...and freedom.  
  
And I knew. Once again, Ronald Weasley would get the shaft. First with my family. I'm the sixth boy; there is nothing much my parent's haven't seen, or anything that someone else in my family hasn't done. Then I came here, not away from my family, but I thought to perhaps get some kind of identity, no longer just "one of the Weasley's." But I made friends with him. At first it seemed great. Me, insignificant Ron Weasley, best friends with the boy who lived. Then I began realizing the downside. Don't get me wrong - Harry's great, basically the best friend anyone could imagine. But now I'm just his best friend and sidekick; one of the triumvirate. Not really my own person.   
  
But I thought that maybe this would be different. Maybe, for once in my life, I'd get something. The girl. I mean, aren't all love-hate relationships supposed to turn into love? Hermione never showed any indication that she had ANY sort of...feelings or anything, for ANYONE, much less Harry. And Harry certainly never did. I guess there's nothing like mortal peril to bring people together, right? And stupid me thought that maybe, just maybe, it would bring Hermione and I together. Wrong again.   
  
As my brain finally processed what I had seen, I sucked in my own gasping breath, trying not to burst into tears. It sounded harsh and loud to my ears. I panicked that she had heard me and I didn't even want to think about what she would do if she found me basically spying. I turned away quickly and rushed out the door, hoping against hope that the Cloak had muffled the sound. I sagged against the door out in the hallway, feeling like some sort of intruder, an absolutely unwanted third wheel.  
  
I know that they didn't realize I was there; hell, Harry didn't even realize anything, but I still felt like an intruder. It was such a private thing, no one should have been privy to that. And as I stood there in the hallway, and on my way back to Gryffindor tower, the whole thing played out in my head. Hermione would ignore it for my sake and Harry...well, he didn't KNOW yet. I even began to think that maybe I still could have a chance with Hermione. If I did something, then maybe she could see...God, I have to stop myself. There is no chance. The simple feeling in that room wiped out all chances I had. So Hermione won't do anything about it and neither will Harry because let's face it...he's a bit daft sometimes. But when he figures it out...  
  
And I thought this night couldn't get any worse. Now I'm back in my bed, fighting back my own tears and nausea, scarcely half an hour later. Can you believe that? Life-altering realizations and events in thirty minutes.   
  
My mind is on another cycle now. I'm no longer reliving the hours after the third task, I'm reliving the five seconds that changed my life. Five seconds. That's how long it was from when Hermione sighed until I ran out of the room. Five seconds. But it's playing in my head as if it had taken hours. Hermione sighing. Her hand reaching out. Her hand laying on his for less than a second. His hand turning over. Their fingers intertwining. Harry's body relaxing. His unconscious smile as he faced her. Hermione's gasping breath. Her face breaking out into a grin. Then...nothing. There was nothing left to say or do because it had all been figured out.  
  
I know that this will tear them apart. How can you tell your best friend that you've fallen in love with each other? And they know me. I'm "fly-off-the-handle-guy," remember? No doubt this will cause some fights and sleepless nights. Good. That's just what I'm getting now. And no doubt I'm going to feel like kicking Harry for being so daft. But I'm going to have some time to deal with it. An entire summer away from them both. As sick as I feel right now, some distant part of my brain vaguely realizes that this is not their fault. How were any of us supposed to know that this time the hero would get the girl too? Leaving the sidekick with nothing? As the summer wears on I'm sure I'll begin to listen to that part of my brain more and more. Because as much as I'd like to delude myself and rationalize this away, I know that I will never forget the tightening of my chest when their hands met. It was perfect. The only perfect moment I have ever witnessed. And who I am to ruin something perfect?   
  
I wonder how long it will be before that prat figures it out? I wonder how long they'll be able to fight themselves before they finally give in? And I wonder if I'm going friend enough to congratulate and hug them when they finally do tell me?  
  
  



End file.
